


A Hug

by shinkonokokoro



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-29
Updated: 2012-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-04 12:23:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinkonokokoro/pseuds/shinkonokokoro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-The Great Game fic; Sherlock has run into some issues afterward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hug

In the aftermath of the Moriarty debacle, Sherlock found himself facing some issues. Unexpected, to be sure. Usually at inopportune moments as well. They always asserted themselves unexpectedly. Like when John was listening to music on his laptop and the BeeGees came up on random. Sherlock was across the room, hand flat on John’s laptop that he had just slammed closed on John’s fingers.  


“Sherlock,” John said slowly with weight, not looking up.   


Beat. “I.”   


“What are you doing.”   


“Sorry,” he blurts, turning on his heel and curling himself on the couch, back to John, hiding his shaking hands in his armpits. He heard John shifting behind him.   


“Sherlock.”   


“I’m  fine .” He really didn’t want to talk.  


“It’s okay to be bothered by things.”   


“Of  course it’s okay! Being bothered by it doesn’t mean we have to  talk about it!”  


John was silent a moment. “Right. Obviously. What do you want me to do?”   


Sherlock rolled back over to give John a dirty look.    


“Sherlock. I’ve  been there. I can.... if you want. I can help. Or. Or try.” John leaned forward, hand extended as if that would help things.  


“Try. You can try. You can’t even handle yourself!” Sherlock snapped. And immediately regretted it. But John didn’t look displeased, or even angry.    


“Fine, Sherlock. Remember that you helped me. Now I’m offering to help you.”   


“I don’t  need your help.”  


“Yes you do,” John said stoutly.    


Sherlock snarled.    


John got up and knelt next to the sofa. “Sherlock.”   


“I said I was sorry,” he snapped.    


“Yes,” John said gently. “Twice.”   


“Don’t remind me,” Sherlock groused. He started when John’s hand came down on his shoulder. “John!”   


John didn’t back off. He twined his arms around Sherlock and gently pulled him in for a hug.   


Sherlock stayed stiff for the entire time. Until John’s hands started moving in circles. Gentle circles. With warm hands. Strong hands. Then Sherlock melted. Sagged. Soft into John’s hard arms.    


“There you are. Relax. Just relax,” John murmured softly. He kept rubbing, up and down Sherlock’s back, in circles.    


“Don’t patronise,” he mumbled against John’s shoulder.    


John chuckled, the vibrations spreading through Sherlock’s body. Another source of warmth. “Better?”   


Sherlock closed his eyes, revelling in the contact. “Better,” he admitted finally, arms coming up loosely around John’s waist. He let out a deep sigh.   


“Any time,” John said. “Any time at all.”


End file.
